I Get No Kick From Champagne
by Queen of the Ramen
Summary: Niles decides to nudge along Maxwell and Fran's relationship, but things don't go as planned.  Niles/Fran


Niles could not even begin to comprehend what happened inside Maxwell Sheffield's head. He had a beautiful young woman traipsing around the house in skin tight dresses cut up to here throwing herself at him, whose highest aspiration in life was to marry him and help raise his children, and he couldn't even say "I love you," without taking it back. The "will they, won't they" sexual tension that permeated the household was almost enough to give him an ulcer. And of course he heard all about it from both parties involved.

Good old dependable Niles. Of course he wouldn't mind listening to Maxwell's "problems", even though his every suggestion was summarily dismissed with a snort and a hand wave. Of course he wouldn't mind spending his Friday nights listening to Fran bemoan her singledom over ice cream, it's not like he had his own love life (or lack thereof) to worry about.

He really didn't mind, most of the time. He loved the two of them as if they were family. But even family, or should he say especially family, can begin to grate on your last nerve. Niles had oft been accused of being a _yenta_, at least since Fran had entered his life. He figured he should live up to that reputation.

A dress laid out on her bed, a tuxedo on his. Each of the kids at a friend's house and C.C. sent on a wild goose chase that would take her through the night and into the next day to figure out. A smorgasbord of aphrodisiacal foods on the dining room table and enough mood lighting to pose a serious fire hazard. And Maxwell had to _putz_ it up by being a no-show, stuck babysitting some diva threatening to back out of his latest "bound to be a smash hit" show.

Fran looked smashing in a clingy black dress that accentuated her curves, her hair piled in a bouffant with fetching tendrils that framed her face, with a simple diamond pendant gracing her slender neck and onyx and qwartz chandelier earrings sweeping the tops of her shoulders.

"Oh, I feel like such a fool," Niles couldn't apologize enough. He had convinced her to dress to the nines and all for naught.

"You fix me such a wonderful looking dinner and apologize for it?" Fran placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Mr. Sheffield just doesn't know what he's missing out on." She smiled at him.

"No, he doesn't," Niles mumbled.

"Hmmm?" Fran looked at him, quizzically.

"I said it's such a shame for you to have to eat alone looking so lovely," Niles fibbed.

"Eat alone? What are you talking about? There's plenty of food for us to eat together, even if one of us is a Fine."

Niles half-heartedly argued about not being dressed up enough and Fran poo-poohed him, even as she sent him upstairs to change into something nicer. When he came back down she stared at him, jaw agape.

"What?" he asked. "Too last season?" It was a very nice suit, one of Maxwell's cast-offs, even if it was a few seasons out of style. He'd even had it tailored to perfectly fit him (on the boss' dime, on the sly, of course).

"Not at all," Fran shook her head. There was a flush in her cheeks that hadn't been there before, perhaps the candles were overheating her. "You look very handsome."

"Thank you, you flatterer." He indicated the abundance of candles that ringed the room. "Would you like me to blow those out and turn on the lights?"

"Oh no, it's so nice, it'd be a shame to waste it," Fran said. "And candle light is a girl's best friend, after all."

Niles took a seat at the head of the table and Fran at the one next to him.

"A little bubbly?" Niles asked, lifting a bottle from the bucket of ice it sat chilling in. Firmly holding the bottle he eased the cork out without even a pop, the only sound was a small woosh as he filled their flutes with practiced ease.

Glass held up by its delicate stem, Niles proposed a toast. "To finding love," he said.

"To finding love," Fran echoed. They both emptied their champagnes in one gulp, and Niles poured them each another.

Niles had outdone himself for this dinner. A wide variety of foods considered to be aphrodisiacs set up on a large Lazy Susan, so nobody would have to get up or be waited upon the whole dinner. Oysters Rockefeller, risotto with shaved truffles, figs, Moroccan lamb with almonds and honey, Russian caviar, arugula salad with ginger dressing, smoked salmon and for dessert; strawberries and pomegranate seeds enrobed in dark chocolate. They gorged themselves on the rich foods and drank themselves silly on the finest champagne.

"Oh Niles, everything's so delicious," Fran popped a pomegranate seed into her mouth, then licked her fingertips clean of the chocolate that was left behind.

"Why thank you, and I even cooked most of it, too." They both giggled at that.

"Did you just giggle?" Fran asked. "I think you're Niles, drunk."

"Looks who's talking, drunky," Niles shot back. They broke into another fit of laughter.

Fran reached across the table and grabbed one of his hands. "You're so good to me, Niles." She rubbed his hand against her cheek. "You always such a help, listening to me _kvetch_ about Mr. Sheffield. I wish he was more like you."

"Less rich, less famous, and less handsome?" Niles half-joked.

"More honest, more open, and more loving," Fran replied. "I should have fallen for you Niles, woulda saved me a lot of trouble."

Good old dependable Niles. He'd never break your heart, never be the guy you'd pine over, fight for. He was **safe**. Well, pardon his French, but _screw_ that.

In seconds he was out of his chair and over to Fran's, pulling her out of her chair to her feet, and into a kiss. It was awkward and their noses clashed and he almost bowled her over, but it was wonderful. And she kissed him back, tentatively at first, before deepening it.

"What's happening?" Fran asked pantingly, breaking the kiss.

"I don't know," Niles answered, honestly. They looked at each other uncertainly before leaning in for their next kiss.

Tender kisses turned to tender caresses as Niles wrapped his arms around her. "No, we can't," Fran gasped. Niles pulled away. "Not in the dining room, I'll get _schmutz_ all over my dress."

"Did you know that he has a jacuzzi in his bedroom?" Niles asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"I don't know if we - " She was cut off by a passionate kiss that left her wobbling in her heels. "You make a compelling argument."

Finding a pair of lacy black panties draped over the edge of his jacuzzi the next day, Maxwell rolled his eyes and yelled "Miss Fine!"


End file.
